


Ignition Point

by sleepypercy



Series: Corrupting an Angel [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Corruption, Blow Jobs, M/M, Mild Come Play, Multi, PWP, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 00:47:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepypercy/pseuds/sleepypercy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean calls on Cas a few more times to watch him and Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ignition Point

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to deansdirtybb for the amazing beta!
> 
> Also – I may have, um, accidentally deleted this as a series while trying to change its name. ( _Ugh, good freakin’ job there, Percy_ ) So to those of you who had bookmarked this series, I’m really sorry for deleting those bookmarks; I honestly feel pretty terrible about it. I promise it won’t happen again.

“Nnggh— _Dean_!” Sam wrenches his mouth away from the warm pressure of Dean’s lips on his, irritated because his brother’s a fuckin’ _tease_ who’s absolutely refused to touch Sam’s cock for almost a week because—

 “Cas!” Dean’s voice is low and gritty as he calls out to the otherwise empty room. “I need—”

 “I’m here.”

 It’s the sixth time in as many days that Dean’s called on the angel, and Cas doesn’t so much as blink when he arrives to find Sam shoved on the bed, mouth panting and hair mussed, with Dean sprawled on top. They’re both fully clothed, but a flush still crawls up Sam’s throat. He curses under his breath as his dick gives a painful twitch at how dirty and exposed he feels with Cas’s sharp blue eyes fixed on him.

 “What took you so long?” Dean chides with a smirk.

 Cas sends Dean a confused look. “I arrived the moment I heard you invoke my name in prayer. Was there—”

 Dean’s snort cuts off whatever else the angel is about to say, and then Cas’s confusion dissolves as he seems to grasp Dean’s irony. His frown deepens, but when Dean jerks his chin towards the chair placed next to the bed, Cas obediently takes a seat and settles in to watch the show.

 While Dean’s eyes are on the angel, Sam takes advantage of Dean’s temporary distraction by rolling his hips into the leg Dean’s got sprawled between his, trying to keep his pumps light but finding it difficult as the need to get off grows more demanding. Each touch of friction sparks pleasure sharp enough to make Sam jolt every time his dick catches against the warmth and firmness of Dean’s thigh. He only manages a few good thrusts before Dean’s hands clamp onto his hips to keep him still.

“Slow down, Sammy,” Dean says with a chuckle as he moves his leg away from where Sam had been shamelessly humping it. “Cas hasn’t been upgraded to the premium package yet.”

Sam shoots Dean a hurt look before sighing and letting his head thunk back in frustration. Dean’s been dangling him over the edge for the past half hour, and if his cock doesn’t get some attention soon, Sam swears that he’s going to kick Dean out of his bed and take care of himself. And if that means putting on a one-man show for Cas then so be it.

“Fuckin’ sadist,” Sam accuses, opening his eyes so he can glare at his brother.

Dean doesn’t deny it; just accepts the title with a shrug and a crooked grin as his hand snakes under Sam’s shirt and slides up his chest. Sam shivers when Dean’s fingers skate circles around a nipple, catching against the side of the nub before Dean’s hand goes flat and his head dips down so he can press into Sam’s mouth again.

 *&*

After the first time—when Cas had watched Dean press Sam into the corner of the couch and jerk him off—Dean had decided to slow things down and give Cas some time to adjust. After all, the plan wasn’t to scare the angel. The plan was to seduce him.

Dean had been calling on Castiel all week so the angel could watch Dean unravel Sam thread-by-thread into a pleading, tangled mess. And then, because Dean was a dirty, sadistic fucker, he’d just leave his brother right there. Even with both their cheeks splashed with red, hard-ons rubbing against each other, Dean would push himself off Sam and walk away, patting the angel’s shoulder as he walked by and informed Cas that today’s session was over.

Sam just _knew_ that some fucked up part of Dean got off on it, too.

Cas’s steady blue eyes had been present when Dean shoved Sam on the couch and pressed slow, breathless kisses into him while absolutely refusing to let anything go below the belt; grabbing his brother’s wrists and holding tight when the temptation proved too much. They’d also been watching when Dean slid up Sam’s barely-clothed body to wake him up one morning by licking and nipping his way up from Sam’s navel to his mouth, teasing Sam with just enough weight on his body to get him hard, but nowhere near enough to get him off.

And Cas had been standing right next to them, three times in a row, when Dean had summoned the angel to watch Dean tongue-fuck Sam into various walls of the bunker until Sam seriously began to wonder if it were possible to die from prolonged blue balls.

*&*

This time, however, seems even crueler than before as Dean pulls every trick he knows to get Sam all hot and bothered. Whispers dirty things in Sam’s ear about how hot he looks like this, spread out on his bed just for Dean; how slutty it is to make out with his brother in front of an angel; how one day Dean’s gonna fuck Sam until he’s covered in sweat and come and spit and then make the angel kitten-lick him clean just so Dean can mess him up again.

“You didn’t see him that first time,” Dean muses while Sam’s mouth is latched onto his neck, drawing salty skin behind his teeth. “Cas couldn’t take his eyes offa you. Watched you falling apart with my hand on your cock like it was Christmas morning, and you were all wrapped up just for him.” Dean makes a sharp sound of surprise when Sam bites down harder than he means to, but Dean’s hands come up to keep his head where it is, fingers petting through Sam’s hair as Dean adds, “He wants you, little brother.”

Dean’s voice is low and rumbling in Sam’s ear, and Sam swears he can hear the purr of the Impala’s engine echoing behind his brother’s words. Sam is pretty sure there’s never been a time when his brother’s voice didn’t do things to him; when hearing Dean’s gritty, sex-hoarse timbre didn’t cause a low, thrumming heat to simmer below Sam’s belly. Growing up as close as they had, Sam never really stood a chance against this sexual fixation on his brother; not when every part of Dean seems hand-designed to draw the eye and flood the viewer with dark, covetous heat.

Lust washes over Sam in pounding tsunami waves, and when Dean pushes Sam’s legs apart to slot inside again, Sam draws his thighs tight around Dean’s hips, rolling his body into Dean’s and letting his voice drop into a deep, breathy plea.

“Fuck me.”

Dean’s eyes immediately darken and lose focus, and Sam feels a swell of triumph at the way Dean’s cock twitches against his own; is probably leaking through his boxers. He _knows_ Dean wants this too. There’s no way Dean’s not dying to pump his cock right into Sam and get off after almost a week of nothing.

“Dammit Sam,” Dean says hoarsely. “The things you do to me, kid. Wanna fuck you till you forget how to use those puppy-dog eyes. But I’ve already got other plans.” His hands come up to hold onto the side of Sam’s ribs, and for a moment Sam thinks Dean’s gonna do it anyway—yank off Sam’s clothes and fuck him hard enough to scar the angel for life. But then Dean gives a slight shake of his head and tosses Sam an apologetic smile. “Don’t worry though,” Dean assures him as he starts pushing his way down Sam’s body. “Still gonna take care of you.”

When Dean’s deft fingers pop the button on Sam’s strained jeans, Sam shudders in relief. Dean glances up at Sam through dark lashes; half-smirk, half-fondness in the expression he tosses his brother as he pushes the pants and boxers to the ground and moves his head between Sam’s opened thighs.

His mouth runs up the side of Sam’s already-hard cock, tongue gathering up the long drips of precome before sliding over the head and sucking it down. It always surprises Sam how well Dean takes him—especially considering that Sam’s not a small guy. But Dean sinks down with practiced ease until Sam’s eyes are rolling back from the feel of all that tight, wet warmth surrounding his cock, and Dean’s hands are holding onto the base, moving against dark curls. Dean pushes his tongue right into the underside ridge, rubbing along the length until Sam reaches out to fist the bedspread and hold himself still. His hands are itching to grab Dean’s head and face-fuck him until Dean’s eyes are leaking, but they’ve got a very specific audience to perform to, and Sam doesn’t think Castiel is ready for that particular show just yet.

Either way, Sam has been walking the knife-edge of orgasm for what seems a lifetime already. Dean’s mouth slick-slides up and down, and then he shoves himself so deep that Sam can feel the smooth, heated lining of his throat. Dean’s sly fingers trail down to pet around the edge of Sam’s rim, and he manages to get the tip of just one finger inside before Sam tenses up, his balls drawing tight, and he’s _gone_.

As his come shoots down his brother’s throat, Sam’s eyes jump to behind Dean where Cas is leaning forward, electric-blue eyes glued to the bed and his fingers digging into his legs like he doesn’t know what to do with them. Sam just manages to shout out a strained, husky “Cas!” before Dean draws his lips tight around Sam’s cock and _sucks_ , and everything blurs into melted crayon colors and radio static for a few intense seconds.

When the world comes back into focus, Dean is pulling off Sam’s cock with an audible, wet pop, and his mouth looks absolutely wrecked. _Fuck_ , Dean’s lips have been swollen to an impossible fullness; the plump skin worn a deep, ripe red that shines like burst strawberries. When his mouth parts just a little, the residue of Sam’s come is still clinging to the edges of his lips in thin, spider web strands that snap when Dean’s tongue pokes out to swipe at the stickiness before swallowing everything down. Sam’s eyes obsessively track the bob of Dean’s throat; noting the way Dean’s lips press together as he swallows, how Dean’s eyes are staring into his like he knows exactly what he’s doing to Sam.

Sam’s hand reaches out, his brain functions successfully fried; every synapse and thought narrowed down to a tunnel-vision of _want_. He _wants_ Dean’s mouth; _needs_ to taste the bitter candy-coating on his brother’s tongue and lick up the bead of sweat trailing down his neck.

But Dean gives Sam a heavy look that Sam can’t begin to decode in his current lizard-brained state, and when Dean slides off the bed and moves out of reach, Sam whines at the inherent betrayal of that action.

Then Dean turns to Cas, and Sam holds his breath as his brother slides his fingers under Cas’s jaw and curls his thumb into his cheek, gently tugging up until Cas compliantly comes to his feet. The angel is breathing hard, his chest coming up and down in deep inhalations, and there’s a full-body flush spreading up from that pumping chest that tells Sam that Castiel hasn’t been unaffected by their show.

When Dean’s head dips down so he can shove his mouth against Cas’s, Sam has to check a growl starting to rumble up his chest. He’s not really sure if he’s more upset over Dean getting to kiss Cas _first_ or at having to watch Dean kiss someone else, but he knows he’s missing out on something and he hates being left out.

But then a small, breathy moan escapes the angel, and the sound goes straight to Sam’s gut, reminding him that it’s _his_ come the angel’s tentatively licking out of his brother’s mouth. And the thought is just hot enough to dissipate that light jealousy as he leans back to catch his breath and let the sight of his brother debauching an angel sear forever into his brain. Languidly, Sam reaches down to stroke his cock in light, careful touches—not trying to fatten it up again but just drawing out the pleasure still humming across the sensitive nerves.

By the time Dean finishes with Castiel, Sam is lying back on the bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to the wet sounds of their kissing. Dean’s grin is wide and self-satisfied when he steps away from Cas, and Cas tries to follow Dean’s mouth for a moment before he gets control of himself and sits back down.

“You can go now, Cas,” Dean says, and Cas stares into his lap, eyes moving back and forth like he’s thinking. After a minute, his tongue swipes across his lips in an unconscious, nervous movement, and he disappears with a muffled snap of invisible wings.

When it’s just the two of them, Dean turns to Sam, hint of a smile playing on his well-used lips, and Sam grins wryly at that familiar, cock-sure expression, taking comfort in the knowledge that nothing has changed between them. It’s still them against the world; carving out a dark, unwanted corner for themselves that no one else can touch. Somehow, though, Cas has managed to become the one exception to that closed membership; is cut from the same _fucked-up_ , _good-intentions-paving-their-road-to-hell_ cloth that Sam had honestly thought was a weave exclusive to the Winchesters. He doesn’t know how it’s possible to want to both protect and corrupt Castiel at the same time, but it’s not all that different from how he feels about his brother.

Sam can feel the dip of the bed when Dean kneels down and leans over him. Grabbing the back of Dean’s neck, Sam hauls him down, flipping them over so he can pin a very-amused Dean to the bed. Greedily, he attacks his brother’s mouth, muffling Dean’s soft laughter as he licks his way inside, trying to taste whatever mixture of angel and come are still on Dean’s tongue.

Reaching down, Sam dips his hand into the front of Dean’s jeans while he moves his lips across his brother’s throat. He can feel Dean’s soft chuff into his hair when Sam’s fingers come back glossy with come. Sam is fully aware of how much Dean gets into blowing him; knows how Dean likes to take Sam hard and deep until his jaw is sore and his lips puffy, and it doesn’t take more than a brush against Dean’s dick to get him off after that. Sam holds his breath as he lets the thought catch up with him, and when Sam pulls his head away to look into Dean’s face, he can’t help running the shine on his thumb across his brother’s swollen lower lip.

Suddenly, Dean’s surging up to press his mouth into Sam’s, pushing hard as he makes Sam taste the salty bitterness, giving Sam something Cas still hasn’t experienced yet. And _god_ , the things they still have yet to do to Cas causes a rush of heat to flood back to Sam’s cock as thousands of wet and filthy images fill his mind.

When Dean lets his head fall back into the mattress, his smile is relaxed and open; carrying none of the carefully-crafted defenses that he puts up for the rest of the world. His hand is on Sam’s chest, fingers splayed over Sam’s tattoo, absently rubbing at the dark lines.

“The next round’s all yours, Sammy,” Dean promises, and Sam knows that Dean’s thoughts have gone in the same direction as his; already making plans for the near future. “Gonna get yourself a taste of our angel.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Ignition Point](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093346) by [KatStark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatStark/pseuds/KatStark)




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